


Tomorrow Will Take Us Away

by Sharkseye



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Attempt at horror, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Ghosts, M/M, No Uchiha Massacre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 08:54:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16059737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharkseye/pseuds/Sharkseye
Summary: "They’re still dying.”Gasping, his heart beating at frankly unhealthy levels, Madara whips around, staring at the spectre and flinching at the resounding crash of ceramic shattering on the ground.  “Wha-?”“They’re still dying.”  Tobirama repeats, and this time he looks angry.  “The children are still dying.”MadaTobi Remix of Amako's 'No one will ever know our names'





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amako](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amako/gifts).
  * Inspired by [No one will ever know our names](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15605511) by [amako](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amako/pseuds/amako). 



> I was given amako's lovely works for the MadaTobi Remix, and chose to remix 'No One Will Ever Know Our Names' by writing a direct continuation. 
> 
> Quick AU Explanation: This is set in a world where Madara & Izuna and Itachi & Sasuke swapped time periods, leading to a better Warring Clans Era outcome than what happened in canon. The Uchiha massacre didn't happen, Minato and Kushina didn't die, Obito wasn't sealed and gaslighted, etc. Also, Tobirama was the Shodamine Hokage, and disappeared two years into his reign. 
> 
> Amako listed some very interesting headcanons with their story and I tried to add them in best I could; I know I failed with Kurama, but I can't write Naruto without him. I also forgot until about halfway through that Tobirama was written with a different physical description that canon, but by then I was in too deep with the imagery. Sorry.
> 
> Thank you Amako for the original story.
> 
>  
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS with mild spoilers in end note.

By the time Izuna arrives, kunai drawn and door slamming open hard enough to rock back towards him, the white haired man is gone. 

 

With how loud Madara tends to be, it doesn’t take much to convince Izuna that all is fine.  It’s perfectly reasonable after all, to slip and nearly brain oneself after seeing a centipede.  Maybe less so to scream like an untrained civilian, but Madara has done worse. It helps that he manages to shut off his sharingan before his brother sees.

 

The minor blow to his pride is nothing in the grand scheme of things, and he forces himself to breath lightly, ignoring the river water splashed all over the floor and the light scent of iron left behind in the air.  Thankfully Izuna leaves quickly, rolling his eyes and assured in the belief that his brother is still far too afraid of the many-legged biters, but not questioning his sanity any more than usual. 

 

Again, Madara has to push to act normally, to finish his nighttime absolutions without any more slipups or hallucinations, and go to his room as normal.  He pauses once there, then turns around.  It’s worth the teasing to slip into bed with Izuna rather than go to his own, where he’d be alone, and more importantly Izuna would be alone, unprotected. 

 

Not that there is anything there that Izuna will need protection from.  Madara had seen the kannerezed noz, the child killer, the _Shodaime,_ disappear, as had Naruto and Sakura.  If they’d noticed anything off about the whole thing, they’d have mentioned it.  And if Madara had seen any reflections in the mirror, it was purely his own overactive imagination and a healthy dose of delayed heebie-jeebies from those damn ghost stories Naruto liked to tell.  There’s nothing to worry about. 

 

Madara tightens his grip around his brother. 

 

Nothing at all.

 

 

 

The next morning dawns far too early.  The sun hasn’t even breached the horizon, but Izuna’s endless enthusiasm is impossible to sleep through, and more than enough to brush aside any lingering apprehension from the night before.  That, and the idea of having his brother to himself for the whole day.

 

They rush through a simple breakfast, then out and to the park in the middle of the compound, the one in which it’s perfectly acceptable to play with knives and jutsus without worrying about hitting any civilians or children with strange, non-violent ideas of fun.  ‘Oinin and Nukenin’ will serve Izuna far better in life than playing with beigoma, even if there are only two of them.  Madara wants Izuna to have a childhood, but he also wants him to survive.  Especially given that his older brother is seeing things that aren’t really there.  If there’s something wrong with Madara that means he can’t protect Izuna, he needs Izuna to be able to protect himself. 

 

A flash of white catches his eye as he moves to intercept his brother, and Madara whips around to see a white cat carefully picking its way through tree branches, disappearing into the foliage.  A white cat.  _Really_ , Madara thinks with a huff.  With Tobirama’s earlier appearance he knows his senses are going haywire, but this is a bit much. 

 

“Come on Aniki, you didn’t even try that time!”  Izuna’s voice brings him back to the present, cutting through all thoughts of Tobirama.

 

Turning towards his otouto with a smile on his lips and a tease already prepared, the words die unvoiced as the sun takes that moment to finally peak through the trees, a beam of red light slicing neatly across Izuna’s throat. 

 

“Aniki?” This time there’s a concerned edge, not yet the wariness of a trained shinobi, but getting there. 

 

Whatever tree had created the illusion sways in the wind, breaking the gory scene. 

 

Wary of where his mind is going, Madara takes a step forward to scoop his brother up into his arms, summoning back his grin, and booping Izuna on the nose.  “It’s nothing Otouto, just thought I saw something.” 

 

Izuna’s eyes go big at that, and he abandons his protests and flailing at Madara’s poke, leaning closer.  “You thought, Aniki…” 

 

It’s impossible not to tense up at the seriousness suddenly prevalent in Izuna’s whole being, and Madara doesn’t even try and relax.  They’d slept together the night before and he’d not noticed anything out of the usual, but perhaps, had Izuna? He knows he’s this close to crazy, is intimately aware of that steep edge, but if Izuna had seem something too, well. At least it’ll be a confirmation that visual hallucinations haven’t joined the audial ones.

 

“Was it-“ Izuna breaks off, motioning for Madara to come closer, only continuing when he tilts his ear towards hus otouto’s mouth.  “Was it a bug?”

 

The little imp then proceeds to burst out laughing, and even Madara can’t hold back an incredulous laugh of his own. 

 

“You _brat_!” 

 

 

 

Despite Izuna neatly breaking the tension with his teasing, it isn’t long before Madara can’t take it anymore, casually mentioning his teammates in order to light the immediate enthusiasm Izuna has in going to see them.  He knows Izuna can be somewhat resentful of Naruto and Sakura for taking up so much of Madara’s time, but most of time he thinks nearly as highly of them as he does his older brother.  They adore him back just as much.

 

Laughing as Izuna bounces on the balls of his feet, Madara casts one last glance around the training grounds before stretching out his senses to search for his teammates.  He isn’t anything remarkable as a sensor, but has enough talent to pick out very familiar signatures through most of Konoha.  To no surprise, he finds them together, slow moving and unalarmed in the market district. 

 

Casting a mischievous look at Izuna, he says, “They’re near the weapons shop.  Wanna race there?” 

 

Izuna tilts his head to the side as if considering, and if Madara knew his brother any less he might’ve fallen for the deception.  As it is, he has barely a second’s notice before his otouto is near disappearing in a mad dash towards the market, calling over his shoulder a demand for no chakra.

 

Letting out a mad laugh, Madara runs after, chasing him through the city.  Another time he might let the race spread them out a bit, but today he’s careful to stay either behind or neck and neck, not letting Izuna out of his sight for more than a couple minutes.  The city is safe, but the events of the morning and the day-

 

Madara skids to a stop, narrowly avoiding clipping a fence and a couple of women walking along the sidewalk.  Ignoring their mild glares, his sharingan springs to life as he scans the street he’d just passed.  A man in travel worn clothes gives him an odd look, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary.  Still, he’s sure he’d seen…

 

Izuna’s chakra spikes in a way Madara knows means he’s taking to the roofs despite having been warned not to do so in more populated areas, and Madara shakes his head and starts running again. 

 

Now that Izuna’s has broken his own rule of not using chakra, he feels no guilt in doing so himself, leaping on top of the nearest residence and easily closing the gap that his distraction had opened between himself and his brother. 

 

Unrepentant, Izuna throws a grin over his shoulder when Madara lands on the same building he’s crossing, then squeals in laughing protest when Madara catches him under the arms, hoisting him onto his back and speeding up in the direction of his team.  Izuna still doesn’t seem to notice anything wrong, and while Madara is sure as anything going to keep up that illusion as long as he can, that doesn’t mean he’s not going to take precautions.  Likely this is just a product of Madara’s inherent mental instability and their last mission preying on his unease with the kannerezed noz, but even so.  Izuna is his only remaining brother, and Madara will protect him from anything.  Real or imagined. 

 

“Naruto! Sakura!” He calls out in warning as he drops to the ground behind his teammates. 

 

As relaxed as they appear—chatting casually while Sakura absentmindedly twirls deadly sharp kunai around her fingers and Naruto fiddles with tags Madara recognizes as being _far_ too dangerous to have out in the open—startling either would be a Very Bad Idea.  Especially with Izuna on his back.  Last time any of them had accidently surprised the other, it’d been Sakura unintentionally sneaking up on Naruto and nearly going the same way as the devastated tree she’d been standing in front of less than a moment prior.  She’d staunchly maintained that she had not been sneaking, but had made perfectly acceptable levels of noise and Naruto really needed to get his ears checked.  Naruto maintained that she was a lying liar who lied, and had totally done it on purpose.  Madara maintained that both his teammates were insane.  _He’d_ never nearly killed an ally for sneaking up on him in the middle of Konoha, and _no Sakura, that time with Neji and the lobster didn’t count, Naruto stop encouraging her._

 

Either way, it’s a relief when both his teammates do nothing more than turn and great him cheerfully, leaving no need for spur of the moment defensive manoeuvers. 

 

“Izuna!” Sakura exclaims, instantly going to take his brother from him, the kunai disappearing into her clothes somewhere.    

 

“Hey, no, mine!”  Madara twists so his passenger is out of reach, backing up a step and preparing to fight for the right to hold his brother.

 

Sakura arranges her features in a sorrowful and completely fake pout, but Madara has been exposed to Izuna’s puppy eyes.  Sakura has nothing on them.  There’s a flash of white behind her shoulder, and Izuna’s weight disappears from his shoulders.  Whipping around, a kunai dancing at his fingers, Madara just manages to redirect the weapon from Naruto’s stomach as his teammate spins with Izuna so his otouto doesn’t see Madara’s violent reaction.  With Izuna in safe hands, he glances behind Sakura again, but the kunoichi has already done a scan of the surrounding area, back to her teammates and only looking to them again when Madara puts a hand on her shoulder.

 

Still somehow giving off the appearance of being ready at any moment to delve into mass slaughter in defence of her friends, Sakura turns, relaxing into a welcoming smile, “Madara!  My second favourite Uchiha, how have you been?  It’s been forever since we last talked.” 

 

“Forever meaning yesterday.”  Madara returns somewhat grumpily, ignoring the tingling in his spine that says someone is watching.  “And if I’m your second favourite Uchiha, Izuna sure as hel-ck better be your first.” 

 

“Well I don’t know, Obito’s pretty cool.  You might actually be third.”  Naruto teased, bouncing Izuna up and down a couple times before flinging him up and over onto his shoulders.  If isn’t wasn’t for Izuna’s happy laughter, Naruto would be feeling a blade in his gut at the carelessness in a time when Madara’s already so wound up.  Well, maybe not, but that’s only because Sakura would be duty bound to avenge him, and if they killed each other then who would take care of Izuna.  “So really ‘Dara, what’s new with you?” 

 

“Don’t call me that.  And I’m going to ignore any mention of Obito because if I try and reclaim my honor Kakashi will kill me,” He responds, then casts a casual glance around before answering.  “You know that new friend we met the other day?  You two haven’t heard anything from him, have you?”

 

They’re both too good as shinobi to let any reactions show, but he knows he has their attention. 

 

“I’ve not.”  Naruto denies, casting a look towards Sakura who’s shaking her head too. 

 

“Damn.”  Madara curses lowly, then tacks on with a wide eyed glance at Izuna, “-nation. I uh, well.”  These are his teammates, they’re not going to think he’s crazy, or at least no crazier than they already do.  “I saw him yesterday, but I’m not sure if he was actually there?”

 

“Who’d you see aniki?  Izuna frowns, far too pensive for his young age.  “We didn’t go out last night.” 

 

Madara nods seriously in agreement, well aware that if he acts like it’s something Izuna should understand, he won’t ask any questions until they’re alone.  He rarely uses it against him, but he also know if they do something exciting enough, like spend the day with Naruto and Sakura, Izuna’ll forget, and the topic will never be brought up again. 

 

Team seven shares an understanding look between them, then turn to entertaining Izuna.  They’ll talk, later.  His otouto already knows far too much of the shinobi life.  Madara prefers not to introduce him to more any sooner than he has to. 

 

 

Unfortunately the day only gets worse from there, and though Madara could’ve sworn he’d seen Tobirama at least thrice more, he also finds himself jumping away from another cat, white _and_ black this time, a creepy dead bush, a blank mask for sale, an elderly woman with blood running from her eyes that disappears the moment he looks closer, the same dead bush, though perhaps it had been a different one, and Tobirama himself, or at least his reflections in windows and on spray of too thick, too red water pouring from a decorative fountain.  Not that any of the phenomena last long enough for Madara to point them out to anyone, or even give them a second glance with his sharingan.  Still, he thinks he manages to act mostly normal, though Sakura does look at him strangely when he near hides behind her when the old lady starts to chat with Naruto.  Perils of being the Hokage’s son, though having half of Kurama in him tends to deter more skittish people.  Amusing when one considers that his mother has the Bijū’s other half, and no one fears her for it.  No, people tend to fear Kushina for other reasons. 

 

Still, it’s not until late afternoon that Madara’s truly alone again, and by then he’s so over sensitized and jumpy that seeing Tobirama again in the mirror has him near destroying half the washroom with a reactionary Katon jutsu.  Tobirama, standing stoically and unaffected, just watches passively. 

 

Closing his eyes to the hallucination, Madara takes a deep breath and turns back to the sink, determined to wash his hands and leave without any more destruction or mind bending occurring.  The kannerezed noz, or whatever the hell else he is, given that he’s not exactly playing like any of the tales of kannerezed noz Madara’s ever heard, will disappear just like he has every other time.  Tobirama can’t hurt him, can’t touch him.  There’s no river nearby. 

 

Calm, even breaths. 

 

“They’re still dying.” 

 

The front half of the sink comes off with the force of Madara’s flail.  Gasping, his heart beating at frankly unhealthy levels, he whips around, staring at the spectre and flinching at the resounding crash of ceramic shattering on the ground.  “Wha-?”

 

“They’re still dying.”  Tobirama repeats, and this time he looks angry.  “My children’s roots are everywhere, and the children are _still_ _dying_.” 

 

The sound of the faucet tricking turns to a full spray, and Madara automatically turns to shut it off.  Except when he sees it it’s no longer clear, but red, thick and viscous, filling the sink and spilling over the broken edge.  He fumbles to turn the  lever but his fingers are too sticky, sliding off the cold metal and leaving a red stain where they smack the mirror. 

 

“Stop it,”  Madara hisses, the air in his lungs too heavy to breath, the smell of iron thick and permeating in the way only his worst missions remember, and there are _dead_ _bodies_ at his feet, but he’s a _shinobi,_ he _doesn’t_ _have_ _a choice_ if he wants to protect his clan, protect _Izuna_ , and now they’re not of his previous targets, but _too_ _small,_ _too_ _soft_ , wide eyes, the blurry red of newborn Uchiha, pale green of the Yamanaka, white like the Byakugan, _children_ of the clans, without Hitai-ate, _too young, far too young,_ _they’re not even_ _academy age_ -

 

“Madara?” 

 

Madara jerks his head up to stare at Naruto, panting like he’d just run to the Sand and back. 

 

The faucet’s on at full blast and water’s pouring from the broken sink, but it’s clear.  Clear as the droplets that remain on his hands from where he’d washed them, but never clear of the people he’s killed, the _children_ , but no, he’s never killed a child before, the Hokage’s never, Kakashi-sensei’s never made them-

 

“Madara, you need to tell me what’s wrong.”  Hands grip his, and distantly Madara’s aware that the sink’s been turned off.  Water still dribbles to the ground, but it’s in light droplets now.  Still clear. 

 

Leaning forward, he face-plants into Naruto’s chest, driving the air out of his friend’s lungs with a _woosh_. 

 

“Naruto?”  He says, licking his lips, wishing the sharingan hadn’t immediately activated when Tobirama had appeared and stayed.  “Either I’m haunted, or I think I’m going insane.” 

 

 

 

“So how many times has he shown up?” 

 

“I’m not sure.”  Madara shrugs, rolling a pebble in-between his fingers.  “Twice that he’s actually spoken to me, but I think I’ve seen him more than that.” 

 

Leaning back, he flings the rock, watching it skip unsatisfyingly once off a larger rock, then plunk to a stop in the dirt.  Skipping rocks in water is so much more satisfiying, but like hell was he going near a river just yet.  Instead the three of them have camped out in a clearing near a lesser used training ground, having dropped Izuna off nearby at a friend’s house.  Madara still isn’t sure if it’s better that Izuna’s with him, but he definitely knows he doesn’t want the other to know about Tobirama, so compromise it was.  The friend is an Uchiha anyways, so at least he’d be safe.

 

“’My children’s roots’.”  Naruto repeats what Tobirama had said, frowning at the ground.  “But the Shodaime never had kids.” 

 

“I know.”  Madara snaps, immediately regretting the harshness.  “Sorry, I just-“ There wasn’t really an excuse they don’t already know.  “I don’t get it either.” 

 

“There are rumors he was part Hatake.” Sakura says, squinting at Naruto.  “I know kids were really important to Kakashi-sensei’s clan, but he doesn’t talk much about them in general.  Does he ever mention them at home?” 

 

Naruto looks thoughtful for a moment, then shakes his head. “Beyond his dad, he never talks about the Hatake’s.”  Naruto frowns, “And that’s rare already.”

 

Fair enough.  None of them had been alive when the White Fang committed suicide, but they all knew the story, and the shame the village had because of what they’d done to him.  Of course it hadn’t been until Naruto’s dad became Hokage that measures were put in place to prevent the kind of backwards thinking that existed, but having not been around back then, Madara can barely imagine it.

 

“I asked Obito about it once and he said that there might still be Hatake out there.  They were nomadic after all.”  Madara offers, squinting as he tries to remember more. 

 

He’d still been a kid when he’d first heard the story, and given that Obito and Kakashi were practically joined at the hip, and Kakashi was still too scary to talk to, he’d gone to Obito instead.  Kakashi had smiled at him the day after.  Most of his face covered, only one visible eye, and the smile had been perfectly friendly, yet he’d managed to terrify Madara enough that he’d not left the compound for the next week.  Not that ever admitted his reasoning.  Looking back on it, he doesn’t think Kakashi meant to frighten him, but, well.  Everyone outside of the Uchiha, Sakura, and later Naruto and his family had been a threat as a child. 

 

“If we don’t get anything out of Kakashi-sensei, one of us can always distract him while the other two corner Obito about it.”  Sakura suggests.  “That way they won’t have a chance to both clam up.” 

 

Naruto scoffs, “Please, that wouldn’t work at all.  Kakashi would just tell Obito with his mind to not say anything.”

 

“That’s not possible you idiot!” Sakura screeches, throwing a leaf at Naruto and frowning when it flutters to the ground before it can hit him.  She huffs.  “They know each other really well, but they’re not telepathic when they’re not looking at each other.”

 

“They’re telepathic all the time.”  Crossing his arms, Naruto shuffles himself into a ready position, and Madara rolls his eyes.  He’s heard their argument on the topic far too often for his already fragile sanity.  “It’s ‘cause of their eyes!  Just like their spirally place, they’re always inside each other’s heads.  That’s why they’re always paired together for missions, and why they always know where each other are, and everything about each other!  Besides, Kakashi told me himself,”

 

“He was tricking you because you’re a big enough idiot to believe it!”  Sakura argues, now violently brandishing a stick from the same plant as the earlier projectile leaf. “And what about Rin-san then!  She doesn’t fight with them, but she always knows when they’re hurt, and _she_ doesn’t have one of Obito’s eyes!”

 

“Please,” Naruto’s mimicry of Madara’s own drawl would be more impressive if he wasn’t wound tighter than one of Naruto’s spring traps, and he reminds himself to give his teammate props for it after this is all over.  “Rin knows when we’re all hurt!  She’s telepathic with all her children-“

 

“That’s not how that word’s used!” Sakura begins, then stops.

 

The sudden silence is enough to have Madara tensing up again, and he removes his hands from in front of his eyes, taking in Naruto’s look of realization. 

 

“Children.”  He repeats.  “Kakashi calls us children too.  What if the Shodaime didn’t mean actual children, but his students!” 

 

Sakura lets out a small gasp, and in any other situation her furtive look around would be funny.  “You mean, _Danzō?”_

 

Madara shivers. 

 

Every Uchiha knows of Danzō.  Most shinobi do too.  The man had been one of the Third’s old teammates and an advisor, but when told to shut down his division of black-opts Anbu, he’d instead turned them into his own personal army.  Obsessed with the Uchiha’s eyes, all of his clan were told to avoid the man even before he’d been discovered.  Madara’s own father had been the one to go to the Hokage with his concerns, and from there they’d discovered his well-hidden treachery. 

 

“The Shodaime did mention Root,” Naruto points out, turning to Madara, “That’s what you said, right?  ‘My children have roots’ or whatnot?” 

 

“’My children’s roots are everywhere’.”  Sakura corrects, now also looking at Madara worriedly, “You don’t think he’s, _warning_ you, do you?  Everyone knows Danzō was obsessed with your clan.”

 

 _Izuna_.  It was a normal thought before, the worry that always plagued an older brother, but now Madara finds himself truly concerned, only Sakura’s hand on his wrist stopping him from leaping up then and there to check on his brother. 

 

“ _What?_ ” He snaps, near vibrating with the intensity of his need to go see and protect his brother. 

 

“Wait, just wait a second, we need to- just think it for a second.  You can feel Izuna, right?”  Sakura prods, “Find him, but wait.  We’re close enough that we can get there before anything happens, and he’s with your clan.  They’re not going to let anything happen to him.”

 

The words might be consoling, but Madara is too busy closing his eyes, stretching out his senses and easily locating his brother.  He’s fine.  Izuna is fine.  Nothing out of place around him, nothing out of the ordinary.  Everything’s fine.  Except for Tobirama randomly appearing to Madara and turning things to blood, but that’s Madara’s issue.  Izuna’s fine.

 

“Now.”  His eyes snap open as Sakura takes on a commanding tone.  “We’re going to sit down, and figure this out like rational, intelligent shinobi.  I know nothing can be done about Naruto,” Said shinobi’s offended ‘hey!’ goes ignored.  “But you’ve got a few brain cells that I’ve occasionally seen you use, so between all of us we’ve got two brains.  We can figure this out, and decide on what to do when we’ve got more information.  Going to Izuna now just means we won’t be able to talk.”

 

Right.  She’s right.  Taking a deep breath, Madara forcibly relaxes.  Tobirama has only shown up to him, has made no mention of Izuna, and they don’t have any certainty on why he’s there.  They’re okay for the moment.  He’ll just, keep an eye on Izuna, as it were.

 

“Don’t you mean one brain?”  He asks shakily, lowering himself back down to the ground, his friends following.  “Considering that just last week you knocked your whole tent down ‘cause you forgot you were wearing that sword of yours when trying to crawl in, I’m not sure you qualify as a whole brain either.”

 

“I uphold that I didn’t like the way it was set up, and was always going to redo it.”  Sakura sniffs haughtily, then goes back to her serious face.  “Now.  Let’s go over this.  The Shodaime is upset because Danzō’s killing kids, and because he taught the bastard, he considers himself to still be killing them.  That’s what going on, yes?”

 

“Basically.”  Naruto agrees, adding, “And for some reason he’s attached himself to Madara, and is putting him under genjutsu that even the sharingan can’t break through.”

 

“Hence they aren’t genjutsu.”  Madara mutters mechanically, picking up another rock so he can fiddle with it.  “Obviously he thinks I can do something about this.  Fix it, or stop Danzō or something.”

 

“I’m not sure his thought process is quite that deep.” Kicking a foot out to rest against one of Madara’s, Sakura tilts her head.  “We don’t know how these things think, but it could be that he saw you first, and that’s as far as it goes.  Not necessarily any reasoning behind it.”

 

“Well we convinced him before to leave. I thought we fixed it them, but maybe we just need to convince him again?  Or maybe you do?  I don’t remember if you said anything.”  Naruto squints in thought, then shakes his head.  “Either way.  Why don’t we try that?  Next time you see him, try telling him it wasn’t his fault.”

 

“Not everyone has your skill with talk-no-jutsu Naruto.”  Madara protests, but considers it. 

 

Both times he’d been too scar- worried to talk, but perhaps it’d be okay.  All he’d have to do is ignore all the shinobi instincts that were making his stalker so terrifying, stop being so jumpy the next time he saw fountains of blood, faceless civilians on the street, or children walking around without heads.  It’d be fine.  Really. 

 

“I’ll find out what dad has to say about Root.”  Naruto offers, and Madara flicks his eyes up to look at him.  “I’m pretty sure he’s been planning on sending a team out to obliterate what remains, and I know there’s shinobi already in place.  Deep cover op and all.” 

 

“Definitely shouldn’t be telling us that, I do hope you realize.”  Sakura remarks.

 

Naruto makes a face, “Whatever you say, I’m not _actually_ dumb. _”_

For a moment it looks like Sakura will argue, but then she nods in agreement.  “No, in some ways you are rather brilliant.”

 

Madara is pretty sure he looks as flabbergasted as Naruto, staring at Sakura like she’ just told him there was a secret maniacal goddess hidden on the moon.

 

“Hey!”  She protests their disbelief, “I can be nice!  This isn’t a new thing!”  She shoots a glare at Naruto, “Besides, I’m still wondering if you’re going to be able to ask your dad about this without spilling everything.  You’re not exactly subtle.”

 

“Oh thank goodness.”  Madara lets out a sigh of relief.  “For a moment I was wondering if Tobirama had somehow replaced you with a pod person or something.”

 

“I am a wonderful person, and you’re both lucky to have me.  You’re also very lucky that reacting the way I want to would only further prove your point.”  Sakura sniffs, and Madara finds himself laughing almost helplessly.

 

Alright, so he’s being stalked by a supernatural creature of doom that either wants to kill him, for him to kill someone else, or some other horrific and obscure reason.  His team is the same as it’s ever been, and they’ll get through it.

 

“It’ll be alright.”  Naruto says after they’ve gotten their breath back, and Madara can only helplessly smile back.  “Now let’s go get Izuna.”

 

And that’s a pleasant enough idea that Madara barely curses when he gets tangled up in a small group of dead saplings after taking down the privacy seal Naruto had put up. 

 

“Just for that, you’re not getting this back.”  Madara says, waving the tag around at Naruto before slipping it into his pocket. 

 

“Hey!  I didn’t put those there!”  Naruto protests, though he does so half hardily.  He could likely make two more blindfolded within a minute if he used both hands. 

 

“Well you’re the one who put it up right next to them, so it’s your fault.”  Madara decides. 

 

The seal would come in handy anyways, if Tobirama did show up again while someone else was nearby.  As long as he didn’t overreact, things would be fine. 

 

“Not like I noticed them.”  Naruto grumbles, then perks up, casting a sly look at Madara.  “But I know something I’m gonna see first, and is therefore mine.” 

 

“Hey!” Madara lunges after his friend as Naruto takes off towards the compound, Sakura following close behind them both. 

 

It’s only a couple minutes to where Izuna is staying, and Madara nearly runs into Naruto’s back as his teammate knocks politely on the door. Behind him Sakura doesn’t even bother stopping, and the mother of Izuna’s friend, Misako, opens the door to find Madara and Naruto sprawled on the floor, Sakura standing serenely beside them. 

 

“We’re here to pick up Izuna.”  She says cheerfully, the picture of innocence as him and Naruto scramble to their feet. 

 

Misako smiles, looking a little too amused at their predicament for Madara’s tastes, but calls to Izuna over her shoulder.

 

“I think the boys were hoping he could stay over tonight.”  She says, beckoning them into the house. 

 

Madara’s kneejerk reaction is to say no, but then Izuna barrels into the room excitedly asking the same thing, and his stance wavers. 

 

“Please aniki!”  Just for tonight.”  He promises, hand in hand with his friend.  Damn whoever had taught the kid how to play up his adorableness. 

 

“Izuna…” 

 

“Please!”  Izuna wheedles, and yes, there are the puppy eyes. 

 

Madara crumples like the soft hearted fool he is.  He consoles himself with the thought that when Tobirama returns Izuna won’t be around to potentially witness his brand of acceptable, but it’s a rather pathetic comfort. 

 

“Alright, fine.  I ‘ll pick you up in the morning.”  He agrees, glancing up at Misako.

 

With a fond glance at the kids, Misako says,” I’ll make sure they get breakfast.  I work later tomorrow morning, so it should be fine as long as you come by around, 8?”

 

Madara agrees, spreading his arms as Izuna drops his friend’s hand and runs at him, curling around his brother in a tight hug. 

 

“Love you Otouto.”  He murmurs, pulling back to add.  “You be good.  Listen to Misako, and stay safe.”

 

Well used to Madara’s over protective ways, Izuna grins.  “I will!”  He promises, ducking in to hug Madara again before dashing off, pausing only to wave at and give his goodbyes to Naruto and Saukra, before disappearing into the bowels of the house. 

 

Madara and his teammates leave with little more pomp or fanfare, only Naruto pouting a bit at not being able to steal his little brother away.  Once they reach the street they stop, huddling close in preparation to split up.

 

“Alright.  You question your dad about Root.”  Sakura tells Naruto, then turns to Madara, “You try telling Tobirama it wasn’t his fault, and I’ll go do research at the library.” 

 

Having a game plan laid out is a bit of a relief, and Madara nods.  “Sounds good.” 

 

They split up after wishing each other luck, and Madara heads home, trying to mentally prepare himself for the meeting that’s to come.  Tobirama has only shown up when he’s alone so far, so is likely to show up again tonight, given that his parents don’t suddenly decide to come home early.  For now all he has to do is ignore any white or red flashes in the corner of his eye and make it home.  It’ll be fine.  No need for the nerves he’d been supressing with his teammates to come back full force.  Tobirama has only shown up while he’s alone, and is highly likely to continue that pattern, so he doesn’t need to worry until he’s home. 

 

Come to think of it, Madara muses, glancing around, he seems pretty alone right now, despite being in a more residential section of the Uchiha district.  But none of his relatives are around, no curtains twitching, no-

 

Madara hits the group hard, barely managing to catch himself on his hands as his ankle is yanked into the ground beneath him, a strangled cry escaping as his legs scrape against the districts stone road.  His hands press together in the beginning of a jutsu, sharingan whirl to life, and there’s a flash of white right before something impacts the side of his head.

 

 

 

Returning to consciousness is immediate, as if no time passed between something hitting him and his eyes opening again, but understanding takes longer.  It seems like forever that Madara’s stuck in a state of hazy confusion.  Of staring at the ceiling and seeing  grey lines, looking to the side where a human figure stands, their mouth moving, sounds that Madara knows are words coming out, but his brain unable to distinguish one from another.  He tries to move, to pull away in half remembered panic of something grabbing him, but his limbs refuse to cooperate. 

 

Or, no, Madara thinks through a fog, staring at his wrist, where some trailing lines end at the back of his hand, others circling his wrist, there’s something else going on here.  His limbs work, they’re just, not working as far as he’d like them to.  Restrained.  Yes, his arms are restrained, Madara decides, then adds his legs to the mix as well.  His legs are restrained too.  He’s restrained, and the person, the man speaking to him is angry. 

 

Turning back to give the man his full attention, Madara realizes he recognizes these sensations, knows, if not what’s happening, at least what has happened.  Obvious really, when he gains enough bearings to think about it.  He was knocked out.  Taken from the middle of the Uchiha district. 

 

 _Danzō_.

 

Now Madara recognizes the slimy man standing beside what can be loosely considered Madara’s bed.  His brain’s still hasn’t figured out words, but Madara can imagine what he’s saying, and doesn’t think he cares to hear it.  Threats of what to come.  Threats likely against his eyes.  The only uncertainty is whether those threats also include demands for him to betray his village or be faced with torture.  Won’t change Madara’s response either way.

 

“… so until your eyes are ready you’ll find yourself well accommodated here Uchiha.  Even afterwards you’ll still be proudly serving your village.”  Understanding cuts in finally, not at all improving on the grandfatherly smile Danzō has falsely presented on his face.  “You understand, don’t you?  We both have the same goal.  To protect Konoha.” 

 

“What are you smoking?’  Madara slurs, grimacing even as the words leave his mouth. 

 

He really has been spending too much time around Sakura if _that’s_ his first response to being kidnapped and having his eyes threatened.  He’ll blame it on the concussion.

 

Danzō frowning in response is, at least, somewhat satisfying, though it loses all triumph when he reaches out to tap at a hanging bag Madara hadn’t noticed, one that connects to an IV in his arm.  Madara lets out a curse, on reflex pulling back to be easily stopped by the restraints. 

 

“Do behave yourself.”  Danzō chides.  “You’ll be here for quite a while you know.”

 

Madara tries to bite the fingers that reach out and brush the skin under his eyes, but has nowhere near the range of motion needed. 

 

“I don’t enjoy this.  Doing what need be done to protect our villiage.”  Danzo continues, his fingers far too close to Madara’s eyes for any kind of comfort.  “But I must say, it’s always been a little, hmm, better when it’s an Uchiha.  Your clan never should’ve been in Konoha to begin with.”

 

“My clan helped _found_ Konoha, and yours would be dead without the village’s protection.”  Madara snarls, well aware he’s throwing out all training of how to be a captive right out the window.  _Don’t antagonize your captors, don’t give in to emotion._

 

The hand on his face tightens cruelly, a finger pressing in and underneath Madara’s eye so it rolls back, pain and the innate Uchiha coveting of their eyes forcing his head back and away from the pressure, refusing to cry out even when it feels like the whole organ will pop out.

 

Then the pressure is gone, though the pain remains. 

 

A switch is flicked on the IV stand, a clear liquid mixing with the thin white one already flowing into his veins, and Madara can feel himself going under again

 

“Yes.”  Danzō says, satisfaction still audible even through the haze.  “There is something far better about it being an Uchiha.”

 

 

 

Madara isn’t sure how much time passes. 

 

 

 

Tobirama visits sometimes.  It’s nice.

 

 

 

He only visits when they’re alone of course, but it’s still good to see a familiar face.  Not necessarily a kind one, but familiar, which must be a good thing.  Among the snakes and betrayers that come bringing pain and experiments, fiddling with his eyes and changing the liquid still pouring into him, Tobirama’s presence is a welcome one.  He at least, seems sorrowful over what’s happening to Madara.  Although ‘sorrowful’ is too formal a word to use for what Tobirama displays as he hovers over Madara, wringing blood soaked hands and pawing at the IV as if to cease the flow of whatever liquids are now running through his veins, casting a haze in the world around them.  It doesn’t work, but Madara appreciates the thought. 

 

He doesn’t appreciate the churning guilt and near stomach wrenching grief that wracks him sometimes when Tobirama gets too emotional, but it’s interesting that he feels so much on Madara’s behalf.  On this note he tries to do what Sakura and Naruto suggested, tries to tell Tobirama it isn’t his fault.  He doesn’t think he gets through to the other.  He’s almost positive he doesn’t.  Still, he hopes Tobirama appreciates it as much as Madara appreciates his efforts. 

 

It’s all still up for debate, but he’ll figure that out later.  For now he’s pretty sure they’re keeping him drugged.  More so than just the white stuff, though at least it means he can’t feel as much when they start cutting at the skin around his eyes to examine them.  Very thoughtful of them.

 

All jokes aside, he really does appreciate Tobirama’s presence. 

 

With how often Danzō talks about how everything is for the good of Konoha, and the snake looks gleeful and pokes and prods at him like he’s a tricked up science experiment, it’s nice to have someone who’s level headed around.  Ha.  Tobirama.  Level headed.

 

The sanity of an Uchiha has always been a fragile thing.  The village takes this into account alongside Hyūga pride and Nara lack of motivation.  Danzō doesn’t. 

 

Madara likes it best when he’s alone, when there’s only one living person in the room, even if he’s not always sure it’s him. 

 

He likes it best when Tobirama visits. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red eyed newborn Uchiha is Sanjuno’s headcanon that I adopted because it’s wonderful.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hashirama and Itama are weeping, unabashed in their sorrow even in the face of their father’s disapproval.  Disapproval at the grave of his youngest son, but then again, Butsuma has long since lost his ability to grieve.  Too many deaths and lost loved ones has numbed him, conditioned him to turn his pain into hatred._

(Madara has been taken)

_Tobirama is not nearly as numb.  He wants to cry too, wants to give in and bawl like his siblings are doing, but he can’t.  He is the firstborn.  If he is perfect, then their father’s disapproval won’t fall on Hashirama or Itama.  They will be spared, looked over, forgotten, and Tobirama wants nothing more.  For them he will bottle up all the pain and emptiness Kawarama’s death brings, dealing it away and not thinking of it again.  It may not feel like it’ll be okay, be worth it, but it has to be.  And as he steps in front before Hashirama can make another naïve, ever hopeful and impassioned plea to their father, Tobirama knows he doesn’t have a choice._

(Gone before he understands what’s going on, gone before Tobirama understands, for he is no longer of this world)

_He’s killed too many children, many of them barely older than Kawarama, to do anything different._

(Hasn’t been for a long time)

 

 

_He meets the boy at the river again.  Sits next to him, eyes closed and senses extended.  Itachi isn’t a sensor, trusts Tobirama as little as Tobirama trusts him, but sits still just the same.  Tobirama pretends he doesn’t recognize the ash and ozone that clings to the boy’s chakra.  Perhaps Itachi pretends something similar about him._

(Tobirama’s brother is there, at the place Madara was taken to) 

_They’ve met there before.  Sat, and talked sparingly.  Itachi has a younger brother, Tobirama knows, and he’s mentioned his own brothers, but this was the first time they’ve met since three became two.  Tobirama hates it, and he says so, the first words he’s spoken since arriving.  He’s not one for speaking, neither of them are, but words pour out all the same._

(Isn’t, but is at the same time) 

_They live in hell. Hell where children die and their fathers go to their funeral with pride and disappointment, where he is but a child himself while so many others just like him have fallen at his hand, and it isn’t the way it should be.  Hashirama and Itama shouldn’t have to deal with this.  They should be allowed to be children.  Hashirama with his wild and impossible dreams, Itama his freedom and boundless thirst for more.  Tobirama does not hate the same way Batama does, wouldn’t be here if he did, but he hates nonetheless._

(A piece of him stolen away as if it could encompass his massive dreams and bountiful love)

_There’s silence for a while afterward.  It stretches for long enough that Tobirama thinks his words have been allowed to go unnoticed, but of course they haven’t.  Itachi responds.  He talks of his brother, of Sasuke’s cries for teaching, his demands to practice yet another jutsu, his wish to learn their_ _kekkei genkai.  His want to spend time with his older brother in a society in which there’s no other way to ask.  Itachi admits he is a pacifist, and yet again Tobirama finds himself surprised.  He didn’t hate the Uchiha, or he wouldn’t be here, but he hadn’t thought they could wish for peace beyond what existed at the river where they met.  That, he supposes, might be the point._

(They give it to Madara, Tobirama’s _student_ _forces_ it upon Madara)

_Itachi talks of peace, and Tobirama listens.  He talks of a village, a home they can live and grow, and where children can be children.  Of a place where shinobi aren’t tools to be set against anyone a corrupt or weary leader desires, but people who can take pride in what they do, even when it’s hard.  He says it as if he knows how ridiculous the idea is, but Tobirama is already consumed by the logistics of the matter.  An academy.  A market.  A hospital.  A police force.  Roads and gates and buildings.  It comes to life in in Itachi’s dreams and Tobirama’s pragmatism, and at the end Itachi asks if he believes it could be real.  If he thinks they could build such a place to protect their brothers, because so much of their longing comes back to that.  Protection for the siblings who mean so much to them.  For children that mean everything.  Asks if he thinks they can protect their brothers._

(There is anger such that Tobirama hasn’t felt in a long time)

_Tobirama says he does, or he wouldn’t be here._

(Anger that his teachings have come to this)

 

 

_He can’t._

(There’s nothing he can do)

_Itama dies._

(Madara will die)

_There is only one brother left to protect.  Just like Itachi, but so, so much worse, because there were three, there were two, and now there’s only one._

(A moment of clarity in the haze of so many lost years, but only a moment)

_Butsuma showed only pride and disappointment at his fourth son’s funeral, anger and hatred at his third son’s, and Tobirama feel relief at his father’s.  There is grief too, of course there is, whatever his flaws, he was his_ father _, but relief is just as strong as sorrow that day._

(The one who took Madara is his responsibility)

_At some point Itachi had figured out who Tobirama is.  Perhaps while they were together, perhaps one of the times Tobirama didn’t show because he knew they were being followed.  It doesn’t matter.  Tobirama knows, and Itachi knows, and their village is still there and they’re both still alive.  Tobirama is the Senju head now, and all that stands between them and peace is Uchiha Tajima._

(Itachi had known his responsibility, though he’d never needed to act on it.  Maybe he would have, maybe he wouldn’t)

_It won’t be easy to satisfy the Senju’s need for revenge and Tajima’s push at perceived weakness, but there’s an end date now.  One more heart that has to stop beating before they can call a truce.  Tobirama does not pity Itachi his loss, nor does he pity himself.  Hashirama and Sasuke have too much to gain for pity._

(Itachi never had to make that decision)

_They meet again, and Itachi wonders how long it will take.  Tobirama says that it will happen soon enough.  Neither of them speak for the rest of the time they’re at the river.  It is here, and the question Itachi did not ask, that he starts to trust Itachi.  Starts to trust a friend._

(Tobirama might)

_Tajima dies, and there is only relief._

(Will there be relief when Madara’s captor dies, or will there only be more blood?)

 

 

_Their village is beautiful.  No more children die._

(Tobirama hesitates, and another child joins the rest.  An orphan from Rain.  Nobody who will be missed)

_There’s blood on Tobirama’s hands nevertheless._

(This will never change)

 

 

_He teaches children.  Grows them in the course of two years from wide eyed innocents who don’t know if they can believe in peace to staunch defenders of their village, ready to fight and die to protect the young and the innocent.  The will of fire burns like an inferno, and even when war comes to their doors and far too many shinobi fall, the mandatory age limit holds._

(Peace is a good thing.  Hashirama loved the idea of peace, loved the implementation of peace.  Loved the wild and crazy dreams he could bask in while Tobirama dealt with the things closer to home)

_Even when death comes for him only two years after the founding, alone and unexpected, a mystery left behind for Konoha, Tobirama is content.  He’s not made up for the blood on his hands, can never make up for the blood, but their village is_ good _, Hashirama is alive, and there are five children who will carry Tobirama’s legacy with them to the next generation, and then the generation beyond that.  No child will die on Konoha’s battlefield ever again._

(Tobirama has always been the more pragmatic one)

_There are only four children who will carry Tobirama’s legacy._

(If he is dead then he is dead.  What then does it mean that he’s still here?)

_Maybe only two.  Maybe just one.  But not Danzō, who sacrifices children for a protection Konoha was never meant to have.  Not Homura or Koharu who turn blind eyes to the matter.  Maybe not even Hiruzen, who approves the conditioning and creation of the group in the first place, though he knows so much better.  Kagami is the only one Tobirama can say with absolute certainty keeps his will alive, and he dies betrayed at the hands of his teammate.  It is not until his child, not a direct decedent, but closer than the other Uchiha, is similarly attacked that Danzō is violently acted against, stripped of ranks and nearly of his life too.  He flees from the village, pursued by hunters of all skills, but it’s as if there is someone unknown supporting him, and he goes unfound._

(If this is only a continuation of what will happen, than Madara will just be another one of the children Tobirama has killed.  His captor will get his eyes, and they’ll be no more use for him)

_Of course, Tobirama knows none of this.  He died, or maybe he didn’t.  Something happened, and even his analytical, genius mind can’t understand what it was, what he now is.  He can only feel them dying.  So many children.  At first only those from before the founding, but then more and more are added, alive and yet dead at the same time._

(What is, after all, an Uchiha to themselves without their prized dōjutsu?  There’s already the blood of too many Uchiha on Tobirama’s hands)

_He’s killing the children._

(Will Madara’s blood even be noticeable?)

_One child he doesn’t kill.  Three of them, but one stands out.  An Uchiha, a boy like Itachi was, yet filled with a wild flame instead of Itachi’s calm hearth.  The three of them tell him it’s not his fault—it is—they say he needn’t carry the guilt anymore—he has to, or they will be forgotten—and they are ever so earnest doing it—they think it’s the truth.  Maybe this Uchiha Madara will be the one to stop the deaths.  Maybe, if Tobirama could make him see, make him_ understand, _he could change things.  He draws Tobirama in like a moth beating itself to death against lights in the summer, but he too is quickly gone._

(It will be indistinguishable)

_Another child Tobirama has killed._

(It will not be there)

_More blood on his hands._

(Madara’s blood will _not_ be on Tobirama’s hands)

_Forgotten children._

(He will not die)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the italicised/non-italicised writing is too confusing, read all of the first in one go, then all of the second.
> 
> Also, little Modest Mouse reference there for anyone who caught it.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s barely a minute after the snake leaves for the tenth, hundredth time that Tobirama appears again, agitated and grasping at Madara’s hand instead of the IV. 

 

“They’re coming.” Tobirama says, as if this means something very important to him. 

 

“That’s nice.”  Madara says, ignoring the feel of liquid dripping through his fingers.  He’s gotten surprisingly good at it. 

 

“They’re coming.”  Tobirama insists. 

 

His hand reaches for Madara’s eyes, but the ingrained flinch response doesn’t show.  Instead bloody hands trace the wounds in Madara’s face, tapping beneath the not yet dead orbs.  For once Tobirama’s agitation doesn’t bring grief or guilt though, instead a sense of ‘this is right, this will be right, and if it isn’t, then there’s no change at all’.  It’s not as unpleasant as it could have been, not as stimulated.  Dulled down as Madara is, not much is stimulating these days. 

 

Tobirama frowns, glancing around at the room as if searching for someone, muttering that they were coming again and again all the while.

 

Combined with the emotions still creeping through him, Madara isn’t sure he likes the sound of that.

 

“Who’re they?” He slurs, grimacing and glaring at the drugs still pumping into him. It’s very unnecessary.

 

With the chakra seal tags it’s not like he’s going anywhere even if they do give him his mind back. Days, or weeks, or however long it’s been in the half haze Madara lives in. It’s far too long to be so lost.

 

“They’re coming!” Tobirama insists, and Madara discards his anger, easy with the cloud, smiling as he reaches out to pat Tobirama’s hand.

 

It doesn’t really work, only smearing more blood in between his fingers, but it’s the thought that counts.

 

“Alright.” He agrees, closing his eyes.

 

He’s not sure he wants them to come. Tobirama’s acquaintances tend to be dead children, and that’s an unpleasant sight for all ages. He laughs a little at that thought.  He’s pretty sure his sense of humour has always been skewed, but he doesn’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing.  In present company it definitely isn’t.

 

His eyes are closed, but he notices when Tobirama disappears. He definitely notices when the wall caves in.

 

Jerking to what passes for consciousness these days, Madara stares at where the door and a good portion of the wall used to be. A shining golden chain slithers back into the hole, and Naruto steps into the room, closely followed by the massive blade that heralds Sakura.

 

“Hello.” Madara greets, watching as the two scramble over to his bed, both echoing his name in relief.

 

“Hello! You’re gone for- and all you have to say is hello?” Sakura snaps, and oh dear, that’s her angry upset voice that she only gets when she’s worried for them but too upset to show it. At least it wasn’t his fault this time.

 

“Let’s get you unhooked.” Naruto chooses the path of least resistance, deftly moving out of Sakura’s way as he tugs and prods at the IV.

 

“You’re removing it wrong.” Sakura predictably snaps, and wow, Naruto really must be upset too if he didn’t see that coming. Between the two of them they have some medical knowledge, but Sakura’s definitely the one who’s kept them alive.

 

There’s a slight pinch at the back of his hand, and he lets out a small protesting _ow_.  It’s a breath of fresh air.  He knows it’ll take time for whatever’s in him to leave, he’ll have to go to the hospital, absolutely, but even just with that little bit out metal out of his body, the relief is immense.

 

“How’s Izuna?” He asks when he thinks he can talk again, relaxing into the feeling of the cuffs coming off and motion being restored.

 

“Izuna’s fine. He’s missing you, but he’s with your parents, and Shisui is there too. He’s well protected.” Naruto answered immediately, moving Madara’s head to get at his neck. The tag there tugs when Naruto does something to it, and he curses lowly. “This kind comes in threes.” The grimace isn’t hopeful.  “I’m going to have to leave these on. I betting you’ve had them since you were captured, and with this kind of block your system won’t react well after so long without chakra.”

 

Madara frowns, but tilts his head in acceptance. Or maybe in exhaustion, as it’s rather hard to lift again.

 

“How long I’ve been gone?” That sentence isn’t quite right, but he figures they’ll still understand.

 

“Too long.” Sakura is the one to reply, and from the look on their faces he knows he’s not going to like the answer when it comes. Ah well, he can wait.

 

All too sudden he’s on his feet, an arm around his back and spirals in his head. He thinks he might like to go back to the bed, but a glance at it reassures him that he was correct in his initial judgement, and it should not be considered a bed.  His back hurts somewhere distant.  He’s pretty sure he’s going to ache for days.  Really, doing freakish experiments on people, yet not even giving them the decency of giving them a nice bed in return?  It’s positively rude. 

 

“Let’s get you out of here.”  Naruto says, shifting Madara to rest more comfortably on his teammate and then following behind Sakura. 

 

The base outside his room is a mess, a bloody disaster.  And considering how organized his room was always kept he doesn’t think it’s the way it usually is.  The dead bodies and scattered fighting shinobi backs that observation. 

 

They head towards an opening the roof at the far side of the room, and only once are stopped, paused by an unaffiliated shinobi who quickly meets their end on Sakura’s sword.  Beside him Kurama’s chakra burns, Naruto ready to leap up in defence in case Sakura needs it.  They both know she won’t, but his teammates have always been self-sacrificing when protecting something. 

 

“Come on.” Naruto grunts, then they skid to a halt in front of the hole, staring up into the sky where a giant summon screams and withers, going up against an equally giant toad with all its might. 

 

“Alright, option B then.”  Sakura decides decisively, and they head off again in a different direction. 

 

Madara’s content to let it happen.  He should probably be more active in his rescue, but simply can’t find the energy.  It’s far too much work, all of it.  And if Izuna is fine, if Naruto and Sakura are really here, then he doesn’t need to do anything.  They’ll fix it, whatever it is.  Or, at least, that’s what he thinks until they get to the end of yet another corridor, more blood on Sakura’s sword ad walls still falling from the backlash of Naruto’s chakra chains. 

 

It’s just a glimpse into a side room, barely more than a second, but it’s enough. 

 

Tobirama stands there, a cruelly satisfied smile on his face.  At his feet lies the remains of a man Madara grew all too familiar with during his stay in captivity.  Water spills from Danzō’s mouth and the hole in his side, pooling on the floor and lapping at the walls.  For the gruesome nature of his death, there’s very little blood.

 

They’re already moving on, but in that tiny window of time Tobirama meets Madara’s eyes.  His sharingan tries to activate on reflex, there’s a wall, a push, and a ringing _pop_ that blows through Madara’s head like a gong.  For a moment the world is outlined in clear relief, chakra and life and death and everything painted out in twining lines, and then there’s nothing. 

 

 

 

This time when he wakes it’s gradual, a slow progression in which his mind works and his thoughts connect, but allowing for time in case they don’t.  He tries to open his eyes, but there’s something covering them, like a bandage or cloth.  For a second he tenses, but Sakura’s voice breaks through instantly.

 

“Don’t remove them, they’re for your own good.” 

 

Well that’s not comforting at all.

 

“Your eyes are purple now aniki!”   _Izuna_.  That’s Izuna.  And if both Sakura and Izuna are here, and yes, there’s Naruto’s burning chakra close enough to touch, and if they’re all there, than that means he got out and all is well. 

 

“I’m in Konoha?”  He asks still, just to be sure, one hand reaching for where Izuna’s voice had come from, where his chakra is.  It’s surprisingly easy to find, more so even than usual. 

 

“We got you out yesterday midday.  It’s late evening now.  Danzō’s dead.”  Naruto lays out the important points, and there’s carefully wry amusement in his voice as he adds, “And yes, your eyes are purple, which is why they’re wrapped up.” 

 

“Huh.”  Madara says, wondering what to think about that.

 

It’s certainly good to hear that Danzō’s dead, but he already knew that.  The bastard got what was coming to him, and he’s pretty sure Tobirama helped with that.  Something happening to his eyes though, that’s new, and wholly worrisome. 

 

On one hand, an Uchiha without their eyes isn’t an Uchiha at all.  It’s their prized dōjutsu, the main point of pride in their clan, but on the other hand, well, Izuna’s hand has just been caught in his own, and he can’t give into panic while Izuna’s there—not to mention that the panic isn’t there, even when he reaches for it.  Still, wherever the emotion is, Madara panicking would make Izuna panic, and there’s already the salty tang of tears in the air.  Given that Naruto only believes in crying over ramen and Sakura only cries around funerals and the off occasion where she’s too happy to deal, it must be Izuna. 

 

“Come here.”  He murmurs along this vein of thought, pulling the small familiar hand towards him. 

 

There’s a sniffle, and then 16 kilograms of unhappy baby brother hoists itself onto Madara’s side, Izuna smashing his face into Madara’s neck and staying there to sniff quietly, soaking a wet patch in the fabric under his head.  Wrapping his arms around his brother, Madara breaths.  He should be feeling more than this, he thinks distantly.  Sure, he’s relieved and happy because Izuna’s there again, but the personal relief and anger just aren’t there.

 

“Can I still see?”  He asks after a while, shifting Izuna a bit so he’s more comfortable.

 

There’s a good sized hesitation, but then Sakura sighs.  “You’ll just try and take it off yourself and end up wrecking your bandages, won’t you.”

 

“Obviously.”  Madara agrees. 

 

A finger lightly flicks his forehead and he frowns, but obediently stills as hands deftly unwrap the bandages from around his head.  “Just don’t irritate them or pull your stiches.  You’re lucky there wasn’t anything physically irreparable.”

 

“Other than the color I imagine.”  Madara muses, uncertain if he manages the smile on his lips to soften the blow. 

 

Once the bandages are off it takes a moment to muster up the courage to open his yes, in case he does and _can’t_ see—oh, there’s the panic, worry, maybe, still not as strong as it should be—but he reminds himself that it’s going to have to happen sooner or later, and goes for it. 

 

Izuna’s staring at him, eyes red from crying and wide with amazement.  Madara stares back at him. 

 

He can _see_ Izuna’s chakra.  Not in the way he used to with his paltry sensor abilities, but really see it.  See the flows and turns, where it gathers and moves.  He can feel that Izuna is alive, knows that he is, and doesn’t understand why it’s so obviously prevalent.  There’s too much sensory input, too much, and Sakura and Naruto are there too, and they’re alive, and Kurama’s there, holy shi-crap _Kurama_. 

 

It’s too much feedback, and his eyes snap shut of their own accord. 

 

“Madara?”  Sakura asks cautiously.

 

“I can see.  It’s okay.  It’s fine.  Everything’s fine.” 

 

It’s really not, but he doesn’t think he can figure it out right now.  It’s only just sinking in that he’s spend the last however long it was captive and subject to experiments with his eyes and sharingan, but the right emotions still aren’t coming with that knowledge.  He blindly grabs the back of Izuna’s head, drawing him back in and resting his forehead on his brother’s hair.  Sakura and Naruto have the decency to talk lowly amongst themselves, giving Madara a moment to try and gather himself.  He has questions for them, but he can’t ask right now.

 

Not when his mind is still rapid-fire going through everything that happened, what he saw, what Tobirama showed him, what was done to him.  He needs to find out how long he was gone, but he’s not sure he wants to know. 

 

He’s not sure he came back right. 

 

Things are clearer, but they don’t feel like they did before.  It’s not the same, and he doesn’t think it’s just because of whatever’s been done to his eyes.  Hopefully it’s just the after affects, the trauma and his body reacting to being drugged for so long.  Hopefully it’ll pass.

 

The smell of iron cuts into his worries, and Madara stills. 

 

“Can someone turn down the lights?”  He asks, knowing he has to look, to see again, but also that the light’s too harsh for him to keep his strange new eyes open for as long as he’ll want. 

 

Naruto murmurs a soft affirmative, and the lights dim. 

 

Careful not to disturb the others, to give Naruto time to sit and be pulled into conversation again, Madara braces himself and opens his eyes to thin slits.  Sure enough, a white haired man stands next to the bed, unnoticed by anyone else in the room. 

 

There’s no blood on his hands this time, no grief or guilt permeating from him like blood in the air.  Given that Danzō was once his student there probably should be even a small bit of sorrow on his face, but Madara is unsurprised to only find satisfaction. 

 

This time, Madara doesn’t scream. 

 

Tobirama still smiles though. 

 

 

 

Outside the hospital, dead white branches sway in the wind, reaching up towards the windows as if stopped halfway through trying to crawl in.  They shiver with a particularly strong gust, then still as an arm reaches over to close the curtains.  Another gust blows, but this time the branches are as motionless and unyielding as stone.  The bright near blinding light flooding the room previously would’ve made it out to give them shadows, but the warm glow that replaced it barely reaches through the curtains.  Gentle laughter filters out from the room, infused with relief and joy.  The branches shiver again, though this time there’s no wind to move them. 

 

A second later, and they’re gone.   

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Mild eye torture, blood, vague descriptions of dead children, descriptions of a character being kept in a drug induced state, let me know if there's anything else I should add.


End file.
